Fake Suicide of Genius
by WhobieLeah12
Summary: Sherlock has been hiding out at Molly Hooper's apartment for roughly eighteen months now. The only people who are aware of his fake death are Molly, his brother Mycroft and a mysterious woman who claims to be a friend of John Watsons. She knows Sherlock well, warning Molly of him and revealing important information of Moriarty and his future plans.


Chapter One

"SHERLOCK!" The scream came from the kitchen. Sherlock rushed inside and stopped at the door post.  
"What is it?" He panicked, standing in his pyjama pants, blue T-Shirt and dressing gown. Molly stood with the fridge door, pinching her nose with one hand and holding a four legged creature with the other.  
"What is this?" She squeaked.  
Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes.  
"Well Molly Hooper I believe that is a dead rat."  
"Yes I know but what?" She threw the rat over her head onto the tiled floor.  
"What's it doing in my fridge?"  
"Our fridge." He corrected.  
"No, it's my decision whether you stay here or not so I mean my fridge."  
"Well it's an experiment if you must know."  
"An experiment of what?"  
"I don't know yet, hasn't finished but when it's done I'll get back to you, now put it back."  
Molly did as she was told scooping up the rat and throwing it back into the fridge, quickly shutting the door behind her. A shiver travelled down her spine and her face crinkled up. Sherlock smirked.  
"Oh Molly, it's only a rat"  
"A dead rat." She corrected him.  
"Anyway, I'm going out. I'll be back in a minute." She smiled shyly.  
"Where are you going?" He questioned.  
"To get some food in"  
"But we've got food in." He glanced at the full fridge with the rat hanging from the second shelf.  
"Yes I know. Could you clear the fridge out whilst I'm gone please Sherlock? That includes the dead experiment."  
Sherlock smirked as the door shut behind her.  
"Yes Sir"

It had been nearly eighteen months since Sherlock was forced to fake his own death and luckily Molly had been there to help him with it and had allowed him to stay at her flat until he could get back on his feet and get rid of the rest of Moriarty's men, including his trusty right hand man Sebastian Moran. It was tough work pretending to be dead after all and apart from missing the cases and the rest of his friends, Sherlock was quite content at Moll's flat, even if it was mostly filled with pink and fluffy things. He had gotten to know Molly better and saw a stronger Molly Hooper to the cowardly pathologist who would once stutter and try to impress him. Then again living with Sherlock would make anyone stronger, let alone living with him for eighteen months.

Molly Hooper got home to a spotless fridge and dumped the many bags of shopping on her kitchen table. She found it funny that Sherlock was nowhere in sight when she had entered the flat. It suddenly grew colder. Something wasn't right. The hairs on Molly's neck where standing to attention now and she saw a shadow sneaking behind her. Someone's warm breath could be felt on the back of her neck, but whose warm breath was it?  
"BOO!" Sherlock threw the rat at Molly, who screamed hysterically, jumping on the counter in fright. Sherlock chuckled deeply in the background.  
"Sherlock Holmes! That wasn't funny! I thought I asked you to get rid of the rat?"  
He calmed himself down.  
"No you asked me to remove the dead experiment so I binned the human finger that was soaking in the kitchen sink and let's be honest it was definitely funny."  
Molly didn't quite hear the words come out, she just heard the fast pace of his deep voice. The little arrogant smirk he'd give when he spoke at that usual fast pace and his hair. All she could think about was running her fingers through his thick black...  
"Molly?" He asked giving her a quizzing look and frowning. Molly snapped out of it and tried to hold back a shy smile, but failed to do so. She blushed again, hoping that he couldn't deduce what she was thinking, although it didn't seem like he could.  
"Yeah, funny."  
"There we go." He jumped onto her fluffy brown sofa and switched on the news.  
Lestrade, Anderson and Donovan where on the TV reporting the next crime that would be impossible to solve without Sherlock's help. He was angered and stressed by this, but mostly just upset. He attempted to hide these human emotions that he hated not being able to control, but Molly could see right through them, just as she always could. She'd always had that gift, she was unseen, well not literally but she had the talent to go unnoticed. As upsetting as that was for her, it still had advantages. Molly Hooper, the girl who thought she didn't count, even if Sherlock had told her she did. Molly reached over to the control, gently removing it from Sherlock's hands and switching the box off.  
"I, I." She stuttered and cleared her throat.  
"I don't think that's going to help you."  
"They told me a cigarette wouldn't help either but it doesn't stop me craving them."  
Molly sighed, sitting closely next to him, grabbing his arm as he lowered his head in boredom.  
"Sherlock." She breathed sympathetically.  
"I can't just sit here and do nothing anymore Molly. I'm tired of hiding, I need a case."  
"Well. I don't know. Watch the crime channel then."  
"The crime channel? Hmm actually that's not a bad idea."  
Molly smiled and rolled her eyes, returning the control to his hands.  
"You have fun with that. I've gotta get ready. I've got a date tonight."

Sherlock wasn't listening; he was already too engraved in the latest episode of Criminal Minds. Molly came out of her room an hour later wearing a black dress with her hair tied back in a pony tail.  
"Bye Sherlock."

Sherlock Holmes was too busy shouting genius tactics at the television to notice Molly had left. It was 10PM when Molly came home, dumping her bag and jacket to the side. Sherlock was still propped up against the sofa staring at the television screen.

"I'm home Sherly." She called out in a tired jolly voice. She entered the living room to find Sherlock with his hands in his usual position beneath his chin and he seemed to lack the ability to blink.  
"Where where you?"  
"I was out. On a date remember?"  
"I asked you to pass me the remote." He breathed coldly.  
"When was that?"  
"An hour again."  
Molly didn't seem too impressed.  
"Yeah. John mentioned you used to do that. Is that why you're watching?"  
She glanced at the television screen, half in humour, and half in worry.  
"Sixteen and pregnant?"  
"Oh is that was this is? Look at them Molly. Look at their poor pathetic lives. I'm guessing the chubby one couldn't find anyone else, being self doubtful with her own weight and pale complexion so she settled for a boy with no teeth and daily shaved hair and of course she didn't want to risk the opportunity or waste time so she dived in without protection like a sky diver without a parachute and of course the only outcome of her rejected life and need for pathetic love and human contact was a baby that weighs fifty pounds and will get to 15 and do the exact same thing."  
Molly's eyes widened in shock as she attempted to take in all that Sherlock had spouted out in a hurry.  
"F, Fifty pounds?"  
"Oh don't think idiotically Molly I was over exaggerating. No I'd say twelve pounds at best give or take."  
"_Baby Jessica weighs a beautiful eleven pounds_." An American woman's voice came from the box. Sherlock sighed.  
"Ahh Eleven pounds. So close."  
Molly raised an eyebrow switching off the television.  
"Well it was a good guess anyway."  
"I don't guess Molly I deduct." His eyes where closed but he opened them again, grinning as he noticed Molly's appearance and stood up.  
"How was your date?" He teased.  
Molly faked a smile.  
"I. It was alright." She lied.  
"Oh really? Judging by your lack of hair style and make up I'd say it didn't go too well."  
"Sherlock." She sighed calmly hoping for him to start, but knowing him not to.  
"Your neck is bare. You didn't bother to put jewellery on meaning you put little effort into your outfit as he wasn't exactly worth your time."  
"Sherlock." Her voice grew louder.  
"And the little amount of makeup you did put on wasn't refreshed, I mean why waste the product if he wasn't worth your time, energy or money?"  
"Sherlock." She became more distressed.  
"And that dress, where did you get it? I've never seen it before so it's either new and judging by the wear and tear of it I'd say it isn't or its one of your least favourites hence why you hardly wear it anymore and hence why you wore it to your date tonight proving how worthless he was to you as you where most likely thinking of someone else the whole time you went out."  
"Sherlock!" She screamed with shiny wet eyes. He stared at her in a realisation of what he'd done yet again. It was Christmas all over again.  
"Please stop." Her voice became a whisper and her face read disappointment.  
"You don't always have to read people like a book you know?"  
Sherlock leaned back into the couch in a huff.  
"I'm bored Molly! Johns not around, theres no cases to solve. What else am I supposed to do?"  
"You could try, talking?" Molly was hopeful but Sherlock dismissed her suggestion.  
"Talking? To who? No that's boring.  
"W, well you could try talking to me for a change?" She smiled shyly. Sherlock laughed in a sarcastic tone.  
"You? Little miss Molly who can't have a conversation without blushing and stuttering? No thanks I'd rather talk to myself."

Her face was pale now and she smiled a sad smile, entering her room without another word and slamming the door shut behind her. Sherlock leaned his head into his lap, running his fingers through his thick black curls.  
"Oh I'm sorry Molly." He muttered to himself. He stood up and went over to Molly's room knocking at the door.  
"Go away." She sobbed, desperately attempting to take breaths. Sherlock rarely saw Molly cry. The only other time was when her cat Toby ran away and that was a bad time for her.  
"I know you're crying Molly." He rested his hand on the door. Molly remained silent barring the loud breathing and crying noises that she made. Sherlock placed rested his head on the door in guilt.  
"Come on Molly. I'm sorry. I've just been bored all day and I was angry. I've had nothing to do for a while now and I didn't know what I was doing. I was just stressed and"  
Sherlock fell backwards as Molly shifted the door open. Her eyes were red and puffy and her cheeks where covered in smudged makeup and tears.  
"What did you say?" Her light voice managed to squeak out.  
"I said I was stressed and"  
"No before that." She interrupted again.

Sherlock sighed and looked at Molly. He'd never really known fully how delicate and insecure she was until now and it was mostly his own doing.  
"I'm sorry Molly Hooper."  
Molly stared at him with a blank expression and slowly wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a hug. Sherlock awkwardly remained frozen with his hands stiff at his side, unsure of how to react to this human contact. He patted her on the head as she broke the hug.  
"Thank You." She whispered.  
He smiled friendly at her, handing her an ice cream pot that he's took out of the fridge to apologise. Molly grinned. It was strawberry cheesecake, her favourite.  
"We can share it if you want."  
"No thanks I don't eat ice cream." He smiled and jumped back in his place on the warm sofa. Molly sat next to him and chose a film.  
"Close your eyes." She teased.  
"And see if you can guess which film I'm putting on." Molly covered Sherlock's eyes with her hand and giggled at his attempt to deduct.  
"Well, because it's me, I'm going to guess it's a crime genre."  
"Yes. Go on." She laughed.  
"Hmm, can I at least have a clue?"  
"It's a number."  
"Se7en" He said instantly. She removed her hands and allowed him to see.  
"Correct as usual." He bragged.  
Molly giggled, rolling her eyes and continuing to dig her spoon deep into her ice cream.  
"Sherlock?" She asked like a child ready to start a long questionable conversation.  
"Yeees?" He mimicked her tone.  
"Why don't you ever? I mean you never have a. You don't like relationships. No what I mean is."  
"Molly if you must know I've always considered you a friend and nothing more."  
"No!" She sighed.  
"That wasn't an invitation or anything. Believe me I've stopped trying. I'm just curious as to why you don't bother with relationships and girlfriends and stuff."  
Sherlock sat up ready to open about something he was usually not prepared to talk about with someone, but he'd known Molly a long time now and he knew he could trust her.  
"I don't see the point Molly."  
"What don't you understand?"  
"All of it. And anyway it isn't that I have trouble comprehending relationships. I know all there is to know, well, almost everything. I just don't want it. The kisses, the romance, it's all transport."  
"Transport?"  
"Transport."  
"What about children?"  
Sherlock's eyed widened, this was clearly not his department.  
"Children? I don't know I just. I mean who decided hmm I know lets slot our bodies together and have a giant game of tetras whilst I harbour a living parasite in my stomach for roughly nine months and then experience great agony trying to push it out?"  
Molly ignored most of his sentence. She was giggling about the first part.  
"So you're a virgin?"  
Sherlock fidgeted awkwardly.  
"That's personal."  
"Oh ok then."  
"I just don't see it Molly! The awkwardness and noises people make. I can't imagine someone not laughing."  
There was a small awkward silence broken by the sound of Sherlock's deep chuckle.  
"What?" Molly asked confused.  
"Only you could ask questions of love whilst watching Se7en."  
She laughed in return as they continued watching the film.


End file.
